You all know that I am normally a very modest person and loath to mention my usual heroics. I do not require accolades when I rescue kitties from trees. Praise is the furthest thing from my mind when I help little old ladies cross the street. And I did not defeat Dr. Octopus for the reward money.

But I will mention one teeny, tiny thing that I did. It is minuscule, really; a trifle that barely merits attention.

I single-handedly put out the Great Baltimore Fire of 1904.

Oh yes.

Oh . . . well . . . no. But does it count that I extinguished a couple of torches from the fire-spinning dancers who helped re-enact the Great Baltimore Fire of 1904 this past Friday night at an event called “Earth, Wind, and the Baltimore Fire”?

I was what they called a “safety,” standing by with damp towels at the ready. If someone caught on fire, I was supposed to yell, “Stop! You’re on fire!” and rush forward with my damp towels to save the day.

No one caught on fire, so I did not get to deliver my show-stopping line, but I managed to be the star of the entire performance nonetheless.

It really is a burden to be me. Quite so.